


Sometimes

by discordapple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discordapple/pseuds/discordapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, he lets her think she can fool him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes

 

Sometimes, he lets her think she can fool him.

She never did, but he let her think she could. There was satisfaction in watching her stutter through a badly made up excuse as she blushed as red as her hair and tried not to let on she might fancy him.

Because she did fancy him.

Sometimes he acted like he hadn’t heard what she muttered under her breath.

She mumbled a lot. If he hadn’t had fantastic breeding that lead to superior hearing he would have missed approximately fifty percent of what she said to him. Which would have been totally unacceptable. After a yelling match or her insisting what an arrogant prick he was, he never missed her soft, “gorgeous, but still a prick.”

Because that made it worth it.

Sometimes he let her think she pulled the wool over his eyes.

She could never quite hide everything from his sharp silver eyes, but he let her think he didn’t notice the wrapped box she had tried to hide with her bag that was definitely for him. After all, it was still three days till his birthday, and he didn’t want to rush her.

Because who knew, if he waited, she might even make him a card.

Sometimes he couldn’t understand why she worked so hard at pretending.

She was still pretending that he didn’t look fantastic in his quidditch uniform when she spied him heading towards the fields for practice. She was rude when he asked why she was outside the library like a normal person, but she still cheered whenever he scored. She was still pretending like she didn’t care one way or the other about what he thought even though she gave herself away when she stumbled over her insults and reasoned her way out of how she knew it was his birthday.

Because people usually have handmade knit scarves just laying around wrapped in silver party paper tied up with red bows.

Sometimes he let her in on the secret.

She looked like someone had smacked her in the face with a gnome. It was fall but this morning broke at a glorious 70 degrees. Despite that, he strolled down the hallway toward the Great Hall with a two-tone green striped scarf looped around his neck. His robes were folded neatly over his arm; his father would kill him if he went around with wrinkled robes. She was still staring at him when he pulled up next to her where she stood by the staircase. “How’s it?”

“You’re wearing it.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The incredulous tone of her voice threw him and in a moment of weakness he worried this might not work.

“Why do you think?”

“You’re cold?”

He rounded on her. “Rosie, you have got to be kidding me,”

“It’s 70 degrees today.”

“You’d think it’s be cooler in the castle,” he tugged a finger around the fabric at his neck in hopes of increased circulation.

“So why are you wearing it if it’s making you uncomfortable?”

“I think you’ve noticed how dashing I looking in my Quidditch uniform.” He smoothed a hand against the scarf. Really, he thought she got the colors spot on.

“It that why you’re wearing it?” She looked down at their shoes and audibly swallowed. “Are you making fun of me?”

All of a sudden he couldn’t take it anymore. She was too good at fooling herself. Roughly grabbing her by the shoulders he hesitated for a split second before praying to Merlin and his Sainted Underpants that he wouldn’t miss and jerked her forward, their lips connecting in a flash of new sensations. She was so shocked her eyes never closed and when he pulled back a moment later he felt dread pooling in his stomach because she hadn’t kissed back.

Not that Scorpius would admit to his first kiss being a failure. He already had sacrificed atmosphere: it was outside of the Great Hall. The more romantic of the times of day: having settled for early breakfast on a Saturday. No, he was sure all Malfoys had epic first kisses and he wouldn’t be put off. Their lips connected once again and this time, to his great relief, her lips began to mimic the ministrations of his own. This time when they parted he pulled a soft sigh from her lips.

Resting their foreheads together she murmured softly, “Is that why you are wearing it?”

Scorpius brushed his lips against hers in response.

Because sometimes there wasn’t anything else to say.

 


End file.
